Veneficus
by RZZMG
Summary: Rose loved Scorpius with her very soul. He despised her for what she did to their unborn son. His father, Draco, is drawn to her because of her strong resemblance to her mother, Hermione. Love is a twisted mindf*ck to those caught in its web... and a powerful tool to manipulate to achieve one's darkest desires. VERY DARK STORY. Rose x Scor x Draco. 2012 NextGen Dark Fest entry
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**This was my 2012 HP NextGen Darkfest Fic (nextgendarkfest . livejournal . com) entry. The fest is over and reveals are out, so now I can post this for you here. This fanfic is ****finished****. I will post a new chapter up every few days until it's done.**

**My prompt for the fest was: **_Voldemort won the war, and this is his dark world. Rose was born in the middle of that to Hermione and Ron, both of who are now dead. Scorpius has taken after his father, Draco, and become a powerful member of Voldemort's regime. Rose is captured and brought to Scorpius to decide her fate. Dub-con/Non-con required for this prompt. He's obsessed with her (maybe they had a one-off in the past, or maybe this is just unrequited feelings, or maybe she wounded him he wants revenge - author you decide the scenario). Author also decides whether Rose hates Scor with a passion, or whether she has feelings for him that she knows she can't want. Will Scor kill her, have her imprisoned, hide her away, or let her get away? Author's choice._

**I changed some of the details of this prompt, as it was my own (the fest allowed such things). Hermione is not dead for this story. **

**A ginormous thank you goes out to my beta, Ladysashi. Thank you to the HP NextGen Darkfest mod for running this wonderful fest!**

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**DISCLAIMER: **"Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This fanfiction was written entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

**TIMELINE:** Post-Hogwarts, A/U (begins year: 2006, then skips to year: 2026).

**MAIN CHARACTERS FEATURED (alphabetical order, last name):** Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Scorpius Malfoy, Rose Weasley

**SECONDARY CHARACTERS FEATURES (alphabetical order, last name):** Hermione Granger, Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy

**SUMMARY:** She loved him with her very soul. He despised her for what she did to their unborn son. His father is drawn to her because of her strong resemblance to her mother. Love is a twisted mindfuck to those caught in its web... and a powerful tool to manipulate to achieve one's darkest desires.

**RATING: **NC-17 (MA)

**WARNINGS:** Explicit heterosexual sexual situations, including non-con intercourse (rapefic) and sexual torture (hard bondage; collaring; mouth bits; forced oral sex; biting & drawing blood; face slapping; nipple piercing; caning/whipping; anal sex); forced imprisonment; slave branding; explicit details about an abortion; forced use of fertility and abortive potions; Stockholm Syndrome; references to human skinning and suicide (implied, off-screen); explicit profanity; use of Unforgivable Curses; pregnancy; betrayal; mind games; main character death. _**This is a VERY DARK and SEXUALLY VIOLENT fic. No happy endings here. Please take the warnings seriously.**_

**EXTRA NOTES: ** _Ancien Régime_ = French for "Old Regime," refers primarily to the aristocratic, social and political system established in France from approximately the 15th century to the 18th century under the late Valois and Bourbon dynasties.

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_**VENEFICUS (ALTER**__**NATIVELY, "THE MINDFUCK")**_

**BY RZZMG**

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**VENEFICUS:**

**Noun. Latin.**

**"A poisoner, sorcerer/sorceress, wizard/witch."**

.

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_**31 October, 2006**_

Lucius hears the squalling of the newborn babe mingling with Draco's sobbing over the loss of his wife and frowns.

Marching into the birthing room, he sees his son's wife, Astoria, staring glassy-eyed and sightless up at the ceiling, her mouth parted in a grimace of pain and surprise, and her face already losing the flush of life as death settles into her features. Dark, cherry-coloured blood stains the white, cotton sheets covering her legs. His son sits at her side, head bowed, gripping her hand as if he could will her back. His shoulders shake with grief.

Nearby, the Healer holds the baby, attempting to hush him by sticking a pinky into the small, rosy mouth, but the new, little lord of Malfoy Manor turns his head, refusing to be so easily quelled. He is angry at the world, clenching his tiny fists and shaking them at the heavens, as if cursing his own birth.

"Give him to me," Lucius commands, and takes the babe from the arms of the distraught nurse.

The moment the exchange is made, the baby abruptly ceases his tantrum. Grey-blue eyes widen with instinctual recognition instead, and he stares up in awe at his grandfather.

Lucius smiles. "Welcome to the world, my boy."

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_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

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**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**This is the shortest chapter in the fic, because it's the Prelude. Next chapter coming in a few days, and will be much longer - promise!**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

_**30 April, 2026**_

Their first confrontation in slightly over a year and Rose is brought before Scorpius collared and in chains, stinking of filth, her clothing torn, and with her long, red curls matted and badly in need of a wash. There are also tears staining her cheeks from her captor's rough handling, a nasty bruise darkening her jaw, and blood in her mouth from an earlier punch that caused her to bite her tongue too hard.

Her embarrassment at having her former lover see her so abused and soiled makes her wish for a quick _Avada_.

Her guard tosses her down and her knees hit the darkly stained oak flooring in the Malfoy drawing room with a jarring crack that she feels up each vertebra of her spine and into the nerves of her back teeth. A whimper of pain escapes from between her tightly clenched lips. She quickly chokes it off.

Panic grips her guts, twisting them around and around until she is sure her intestines will never function properly again. Maybe he didn't notice the sound. Maybe his conversation with his father has preoccupied his attention, and her gaff went unheard.

She holds her breath and prays.

Scorpius stiffens and turns to glance down at her through narrowed, hate-filled eyes. Then, with a negligent wave of his wand, he banishes her voice. "She's supposed to be silenced at all times," he states with extreme displeasure. "You know she's strong in wandless and non-verbal magic."

"Disgusting creature. Magically takes after her Mudblood mother, it seems," the elder Malfoy comments. He looks down his aristocratic nose at her as if she is some sort of despicable animal that needs to be put down.

_Lucius_, she remembers his name. She's never met Scorpius' grandfather face-to-face, but her former lover had occasionally spoken about him in soft, fearful tones. The Provost of Wiltshire is, Scor had said more than once, not a man to ever cross. That he and his grandson can nearly be considered identical twins, separated only by the aging of decades, brings her up short as she stares at the older wizard now. Is this how her ex-lover will look in fifty years?

"She resembles Granger, too," the man's Intendant comments with a dark expression. He is the Provost's son, Draco. She recognizes him from his photo in a newspaper she'd once fished from a trash bin. This man's name is as taboo as the Dark Lord's to her parents, especially Hermione Granger-Weasley, but Rose doesn't know why that is. Her mother has never said, and she has never asked. From the flashing hungry look in his eye now, though, carefully masked before anyone else but her can notice, Rose believes she may have an inkling.

She shudders and drops her gaze to Scorpius' boots. They are caked with things organic and dirty - mud, blood, and the gods know what else. He has recently been granted the title of Seneschal in Voldemort's _Ancien Régime_, so he does not dress in a politician's polished shoes and silken finery as his father and grandfather, but as the wizard-soldier that he is: black leather and coarse wool, with accents of burnished metal. His fashion is all hard, sharp angles, matching his features.

Rose sees his ebony wand twitch out of the corner of her eye, and she is suddenly levitating a few feet above the ground.

"She is mine. She owes me a life debt," the youngest Malfoy proclaims, turning those ice-hard, grey flecked eyes on her. He sneers in triumph. "Don't you, you half-blood bitch?"

She feels her heart slam under her ribs, and tastes her fear as suffocating cotton in her mouth.

Scorpius throws a significant glance at the lowly minion who has dragged her into her new servitude, weighing a heavy coin purse on his hip. "Good work. Find me more Order members and I'll double this for every one you bring me alive." He detaches the pouch and tosses it to the Head Snatcher. The Galleons within clink together as the older, balding man catches it in mid-air in an avaricious hold.

"Of course, my lord. Thank you, my lord. I lives to serves, yer Seneschal-ness," Scabior grovels with a placating smile, bowing several times and backing up until he reaches the stairs. He turns to go down them.

"Mister Scab, one more thing," Lucius calls after the man, who freezes and looks over his shoulder, spine stiff and beady eyes wary. The Provost fiddles with an ugly, antique ring on his left hand, reminding his audience of his secured place within the hierarchy. Only members of Voldemort's Inner Circle are allowed to wear jewellery, especially pieces containing gems of any sort, which this ring certainly has. The dark stone is ugly, she thinks, as it reflects no light. "I'm in need of a new leather belt. Something in Muggle ought to do. I'd like the skin to be blemish-free this time, as pale in colour as possible. See to it," the older wizard comments as casually as if he were talking about tying his shoe.

From her position in the air, Rose sees how the Snatcher flinches. He turns and bows low at the waist. "Yes, yer sire," he grovels. "I can have it fer ya in a few days."

Lucius makes a shooing motion, and Scabior flees.

The elder Malfoy turns on his heel then and leisurely strides towards the opposite door that heads into the Manor proper. "I don't care to know how you choose to break in your new toy, Scorpius," he states over his shoulder, "but you are to assure that your grandmother is not disturbed in any fashion in the doing. She is not at all well, as you know, and loud noises upset her. Silence your wing of the house before you begin, if you would."

Scorpius claps his boot heels together and bows at the head in a soldier's obedience. "Yes, Provost."

"And Draco," the man turns to his son next. When they lock eyes, the father gives him a stern warning. "I don't think I need to tell you that you are to stay away from her?"

The Intendant says nothing, and Scorpius narrows his eyes at his father with suspicion.

Rose lets her gaze wander back and forth between the three wizards, wondering what was meant by that comment. Back when they had been closer, Scorpius had never mentioned that he and his father were on poor terms. In fact, it was previously his grandfather that he seemed to have problems with, not his father. Clearly, within the last six months, that attitude has flip-flopped. What has caused it to do so?

The Provost of Wiltshire says no more. He opens the door and walks through it without a backward glance.

"What will you do to her?"

The question is softly spoken by the Intendant, but there is an undeniable dispassion to it that chills Rose to the bone.

Scorpius waves his wand and brings her closer. She floats until her shoulder bumps his hip. "Anything I want," the son replies, staring at his father with maliciousness that she wouldn't have said Scorpius was capable of just half a year before. "Why do you care?"

Draco Malfoy looks down at her, and he is ice personified. His arctic grey eyes contain no warmth, his pale face no compassion. "I don't," he says.

There is a strained pause, and then, "Good." With that, Scorpius magically drifts her along after him out of the room.

A last backward glance finds her enemy's father staring at her, his expression curiously circumspect.

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**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**Just a last warning - as of the next chapter, this fic becomes VERY DARK. Please read the warnings labelled in chapter 1 to make sure you are comfortable reading such horrors. If not... please go no further.**

**Hope you'll review this chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**_3 May, 2026_**

Rose silently wails in agony around the leather bit in her mouth as Scorpius finishes within her with a roar of supreme satisfaction, jetting his hot, sticky seed deep into her unprotected womb with a final, violent shove.

_Please don't let me get pregnant_, she silently prays as the tears stream from her eyes.

The sting of her collar being yanked from behind, forces her head to crank back. A heavy hand slaps her arse. "You said to me once that you could never fuck, only make love," he taunts, panting heavy breaths against her cheek. "Guess I've made a liar out of you, Rose."

She sobs around the gagging, metal piece, her heart breaking all over again.

She'd expected his anger, but this... this is not the Scorpius she'd known just six short months ago. This is not the tender lover she'd sat up with until dawn watching the sun rise in a naked tangle of sated limbs, discussing ways for him to escape his father's fate and defect to the Order's cause so they could always be together. This wizard is a stranger to her, lacking in pity and mercy.

He pulls out of her body, and releases her collar, and her head slumps forward, sweat dripping into her eyes. Her spine aches from the strain of being held up in chains to the post he has magically transfigured in the centre of his bedroom. Her nipples ache from the constant tugging of the golden rings he has pierced her with, and her quim is sore from his relentless pounding. Her shaking legs want to give, but if she lets them, the joints in her shoulders will pop, so she has no choice but to stubbornly keep standing.

Her tormentor tiredly struts around to the front of her, fully naked, and as beautiful as she remembers. With two fingers under her chin, he forces her to meet his eyes. "I should kill you for what you did," he seethes, his anger still finding no appeasement, despite having worked itself upon her body time and again over the last three days since she became his prisoner. "You betrayed me. You betrayed us!"

In the face of his accusation, she once again, weakly shakes her head in denial.

He slaps her across her cheek and it stings so bad she knows the skin will be red for a while. "Stop fucking lying to me," he snarls, stepping in close enough for her to smell her own blood on his breath. Her breasts, neck, thighs, stomach, and arms bear the marks of his stinging, punishing bites. "I saw you through your own father's memories, ripped from his dying head. A Pensieve doesn't lie."

She sobs and again shakes her head.

He weaves his fingers through her hair and pulls. "You lying bitch! You killed our son, Rose! _MY SON!_"

She soundlessly screams behind the gag in denial, stomps her foot and attempts to shake her head again.

_It wasn't me who killed our baby. It wasn't me!_

He presses his lips to her ear. "You think I'd believe you after what I saw?" Very gently, he kisses the bite mark he has left on her throat. "It won't matter anyway. In nine months, you'll give me another son, and nine months after that, another. As many as I want - until I tire of hurting you. Then I'll kill you."

He jerks free of her and moves off to the bathroom, where the sound of his charmed shower washes her blood from his hands.

If only he would let her speak! But he has kept her _Silenced_ and gagged since he has brought her here, as if he has no intention of letting her explain or apologize for what happened six months ago.

She wonders if she will ever be allowed her voice again.

**X~~~~~X**

**_7 May, 2026_**

It has been several more days, and Scorpius is still relentless in his anger over her incorrectly presumed part of their unborn baby's death. He seethes with hatred for her. It eats and blackens his soul. There is no respite for his rage, not even when he sleeps. It makes him writhe in his bed for the few hours he does find rest until he awakens, soaked in sweat, his legs tangled in his sheets, and spitting profanities to the ceiling.

With terror her new, constant companion, Rose silently watches him from the corner of his room that has become her prison. She waits in fear of what new and inventive evil he will inflict upon her, and she mourns for him. He has become this ball of festering hostility because of a misunderstanding - one she'd been hoping to correct when she'd decided to allow herself to be captured a week ago. She'd known that once the Snatchers found out she was a half-blood and the daughter of the rebel leaders, she'd be brought before Scorpius, as he was this district's new Seneschal and one of his duties was to oversee the Wiltshire internment camp. She'd expected to be able to speak to him then - to explain why she'd suddenly disappeared from his life six months ago, and why their tiny, helpless son had been ripped from her womb three months before his birth and died gasping for breath.

She's been a fool to believe he'd want to listen to anything she has to say on the matter. She'd broken his heart and crushed his hope all in one fell swoop six months ago, and clearly there will be no forgiveness for her. It doesn't matter that none of it is her fault. It doesn't matter that she has been as much a victim as their son.

From across the room, she hears him awaken from another nightmare, and knows what comes next. Terror grips her as he steps down from his canopied bed, stark naked, and staggers across the floor towards her, his fully aroused erection bobbing, slapping against his thighs as he moves. In the moonlight coming in through his bedroom windows, she sees the look on his face and trembles.

Exhausted from no sleep for two nights, and on and off torture sessions during the day, her struggles are weak as he yanks her about with violence and pins her beneath him once more. He rapes her brutally from behind, holding her collar tight enough to nearly choke her out. When he comes, he bites the bend of her neck like a rabid beast, drawing blood.

**X~~~~~X**

**_10 May, 2026_**

There is a knock at the bedroom door.

Scorpius tosses the towel from around his hips onto the floor and dons a robe. His freshly-washed hair is still damp as he combs his fingers through it.

"Grandfather." He seems surprised to see his elder at his door. "I'm just getting ready for the party now."

Lucius Malfoy does not cross the threshold into the room, but it is clear as his eyes lazily scan the area that he misses nothing. They land on her, but skim by with disinterest. She notes how smartly the man is dressed, in a set of elegant robes, and how he strokes over the jewellery on his hand. "I sincerely hope that you haven't been so busy with you new play thing, Scorpius, that you've forgotten to buy your grandmother an appropriate birthday gift?"

Her captor shakes his head. "A rare blooming Creeping Blood Rose. It's in the greenhouse right now. I think she'll enjoy it very much. Maybe it'll even get her outdoors and help her regain her strength."

The Provost's reply is surprisingly unconcerned, almost bland. "Perhaps. I'm sure she'll enjoy it." He glances around again. "See you down in the formal dining room, then. Thirty minutes. Don't be late."

Scorpius again defers to his captain with a smart clicking of his heels and a bowing of his head. "I'll be there."

He closes the door and immediately turns to head into his cavernous walk-in closet. "You're in luck today, bitch," he shouts out at her. "There won't be time for us to play until later." Having picked an outfit, he returns to the main room and begins dressing. "Looks like you're going to have to live without my attentions for the day."

Rose turns into the corner and tries not to cry in relief.

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**_TO BE CONTINUED..._**

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**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**To be fair, I warned you it would get darker. And there are still more darker and horrible things to come for poor Rose in the next chapter. **

**Please review!**

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**Preview of Chapter 4:**

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_"I hate you, Rose. With my whole soul I fucking hate you. I despise the very sight of you!"_

_._

_...as the mother carrying that precious life under her heart for six months, she has suffered in ways Scorpius will never understand. There is forever an empty ache in her womb, a black, gaping hole in her heart, and the shattering whisper of "what if..."_

_._

_"How could you do this to us?" her father yells at her, his face an angry shade of red. "Do you realize how much danger you've put us all in, with your sneaking around with the enemy's son? And now this... __You've left me no choice, Rosie... __Imperio."_


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

**Please let me reiterate: there is no happy ending to this story and it is very violent and awful. It was written for the HP NextGen DARK FEST, which explicitly states no happy endings allowed and the darker the better. Please keep that in mind.**

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_**12 May, 2026**_

Scorpius' inner sadist decides a game is on the agenda for today. Perhaps the party two days ago has put him in the mood. Whatever the reason, he switches up the manner in which he accomplishes his cruel perversities, torturing her with a cane. He brings the hard, wooden rod snapping across her backside again and again. The pain as it hits is incredible, and she silently screams.

"Enjoying my 'Governess', Rose?" he mockingly asks, caressing the crack of her buttocks with its rounded end. "She's made of Yew, you know." The tip pierces her vagina, and he fucks her with it to a slow, taunting rhythm. "Only the best for you, my whore."

Her body quivers in disgust as he pushes it deeper into her, and the narrow-lipped bowl of ice water precariously balancing on her spine tips, sloshing her with liquid cold.

"Tsk, tsk," he chides, removing the cane from her body. "You spilled. You know what that means."

He brings the cane across her backside again, and she jerks and tenses up, trying not to jar the bowl so it topples over. It is so difficult to keep her spine at a perfectly balanced, ninety-degree angle as he expects. Her head hangs and her arms shake. She's held this position for two hours, and it's beginning to really hurt now. She just wants to curl up in the centre of the mattress she's leaning over, and cry until she expires from the pain.

"Be still!" he barks the command at her and whacks her again, this time across the backs of her thighs.

Her leg muscles quake; she knows this is it.

Abruptly, her right knee unlocks and the bowl capsizes, its contents pouring out all over her and onto the floor.

"Clumsy, ungraceful cow," he snarls, and canes her again and again, over and over. It never seems to stop. She is sobbing, silently screaming as each bite of the wooden torture device marks her bottom and legs.

It is too much for her body to bear. She collapses to her knees, gripping the soaked, cool coverlet and pressing her face into it. It hurts to sit, but she can't seem to unlock her hold on the bedding long enough to fall to her side.

Scorpius' breathing is harsh in the quiet room.

"You... bitch," he pants, throwing the cane down with force. "I hate you, Rose. With my whole soul I fucking hate you. I despise the very sight of you!"

This makes her sob harder. Never had she ever thought he could say and do such horrible, cruel things to her. They'd loved each other with a burning passion not six months ago! How could he have changed so much?

He stomps away from her, slamming the door to the bathroom behind him, where he goes to clean up.

Traumatized, she leans her whole torso against the bed, letting it support her, and cries until she is as empty as the cracked bowl that lies next to her on the floor. They are, both of them, she realizes, empty vessels to be used and discarded.

**X~~~~~X**

_**16 May, 2026**_

The shifting of air currents in the room wakes Rose from a rare afternoon nap, and she lifts her weary head and glances around, sensing a presence nearby. There is no one there when she makes a quick scan of the environment, however. Still, she feels eyes upon her, and it unnerves her.

Stiff-limbed from yesterday's caning, and with her bottom still smarting from the beating it had taken, she nonetheless scoots back into the corner and brings her knees up to shield her nudity.

Alert now to danger, she keeps her attention forwards and seeks some telltale give-away that someone is _Disillusioned_. She can see nothing, though. Whoever they are, they are wise enough to understand the value of absolute stillness.

As she doesn't want to take the risk of being attacked in her sleep by some unknown, invisible stranger, she sits silently with her back to the wall.

The feeling doesn't go away until Scorpius comes sauntering back into his room an hour or so later, pushing the door wide open, and cheerfully brandishing a leather flogger. "My slag, I'm home," he chimes, smiling with malicious glee.

After that, there is no more time to consider the possibility of a secret voyeur. There is only pain again.

**X~~~~~X**

_**18 May, 2026**_

The slave brand scalds the flesh of her left hip and Rose struggles not to pass out from the pain. Sweat drips into her eyes, and mingles with the hot wave of tears across her vision as she screams and screams in silence, her voice still magically-gagged.

If only she could make a sound. If only she could explain to Scorpius that he's making a terrible mistake. That all of his anger and bitter hatred for her is unjustified!

When the brand is set nice and deep, only then does her tormentor remove the hot poker from her skin. The seared nerves in her body sting with such pain that she slumps in her tight manacles, unable to hold her weight up any longer. The elaborate pulley system Scorpius has devised to torture her this afternoon, however, keeps her in place and prevents her shoulders from disjointing as she sags within her bonds.

Having successfully marked her as his personal property now, he former lover turns to cleaning and putting away his torture implement. He dips it into a cauldron of tepid water, and steam hisses and rises. He turns it around and around in the bucket, and then uses his wand to _Scourgify_ it clean. When he is finished caring for his evil toy, he puts it up in a storage rack that is set within a metal armoire next to the fireplace.

He crosses the room to return to her side. His body smothers hers as he presses his mouth to the shell of her ear, nudging it with the tip of his nose and ghosting over it with his lips with false affection. "Did you know it took our baby almost a full minute to die after that hag ripped him out of you? He was only six months old. I watched him struggle in her bloodied hands as she crushed his little skull between her palms. When he finally went still, I died with him," he whispered the secret to her. His fingers pressed down over the brand he'd just marked her with, causing needles of sharp pain to spike up her spine and into her back of her skull. "I want you to suffer for that, Rose. Suffer like he did."

_I have_, she wants to shout at him.

She has suffered more than Scorpius knows. The details of that awful day their baby died are imprinted in her brain. It has haunted her, asleep and awake, just as it does him. It has tortured her mind and spirit, just as he does. It has stolen her hope, as it has taken his. And as the mother carrying that precious life under her heart for six months, she has suffered in ways Scorpius will _never_ understand. There is forever an empty ache in her womb, a black, gaping hole in her heart, and the shattering whisper of _"what if..."_ plagues her dreams.

_I have suffered_, she mouths.

"Have you? Well, I don't think it's nearly enough," he sneers and backs up to put space between them. His face is dark with the need to punish her, and he points his wand in her face. _"Imperio."_

_No,_ she wordlessly whimpers, terrified of this Unforgivable Curse more than the others. There is no strength to resist him left in her bones, however. She is exhausted and in terrible pain. Her back still stings like fire from his earlier whipping, her nipples ache from his constant pulling at the rings that pierce them, and her arse is still sore from last night's breaching. The slave brand throbs at her hip. She is an easy conquest for Scorpius, and without any further thought to fighting back, her mind gives itself over to his will.

He releases her manacles and she her slumps to her knees, sinking into the sumptuous carpet at his feet.

"Suck my cock," he commands, letting his trousers fall to his ankles and shucking his shirt with a hasty yank and throw. "Do it good and make me come."

Bespelled to comply, she takes to the commanded task with eagerness, gulping him down and suckling with strong pressure as she pulls back. He meets her next downward glide with a forward thrust that goes deep into her mouth with no measure of gentleness. A groan of pleasure escapes his lips. The process repeats again and again, and he gags her as he shoves her nose into his curls over and over. He's so far down her throat that she worries about damage to her larynx.

"That's it. Don't stop," he gasps, pulling her hair and riding her mouth. "You used to love sucking me off, Rose, and I've got to admit that no woman since has ever matched your skill at it."

His pace quickens and his buttocks firm up as he closes in on orgasm. When he comes, he gives one long groan, his hips and thighs shuddering as he slides forward one last time. Streams of his hot, creamy fluid shoot across her tongue and fill her mouth. She struggles to swallow it all.

When he's done, he shoves her away from him with a cruelly barked, "Get off!" He then bends and pulls his trousers back up his lightly-furred, well-muscled legs. "Nicely done, my whore. I needed to take the edge off. Going to see Nott's daughter for lunch in an hour. Wouldn't do for her to think I'm a two-pump chump."

The implication leaves Rose sick. He is going to fuck some other girl later today, and he wants to appear a good lover for his pureblood witch - one who can last a long time in bed. She knows from personal experience that Scorpius can always last longer after the first orgasm is out of the releases her from the Imperius Curse once he has her secured in her chains again, and leaves her with a final slap to the brand on her hip. It takes more than an hour for that sting to stop hurting and for her tears to stop flowing.

**X~~~~~X**

_**20 May, 2026**_

Two days later, Scorpius leaves to go downstairs and entertain some guests for several hours. The morning and afternoon is quiet as a result, with only the sound of the rain outside hitting the windows to break up the monotony.

She can hear none of the activity that happens in the main section of the house, as Scorpius' private wing is as far removed from those comings and goings as possible, so she has no idea if he's throwing an all-out party, or if he is hosting only a few friends over for a casual brunch. Regardless, for the time being, Rose enjoys the reprieve; for it is only in these moments when her ex-lover is gone that she finds any real rest.

As she closes her eyes, however, peace eludes her. Instead, she is tormented by the memory of the last time someone used the Imperius Curse against her...

_"How could you do this to us?" her father yells at her, his face an angry shade of red. "Do you realize how much danger you've put us all in, with your sneaking around with the enemy's son? And now this."_

_He waves a hand in disgust at her swollen belly._

_"You disappoint me, Rose."_

_Rose's eyes waver with tears._

_Her father has waited for her mother to be absent on some mission to have this confrontation with her. She has watched the dark looks he has given her all week, anticipating this moment with dread._

_"I'm sorry, Daddy," she offers, wiping a hasty hand across her tear-streaked, crimson cheeks. "I'm so sorry."_

_"Not yet, but you will be," he warns._

_Her father's wand in her face is the last thing she expects. She is so taken aback by the idea that he would draw on her that she doesn't react to defend herself. Why should she? He is her father._

_"Imperio."_

_It is in a single moment of clarity, just before her will is no longer her own, that she notices the mad glint to her father's eyes. He is beyond furious and clearly irrational. Until that second, she has not wanted to admit what her mother has been trying to tell her for the last week since her father's rescue from an internment camp: something within Ronald Weasley has changed, and not for the better. Four months of torture has broken him._

_"You've left me no choice, Rosie. Follow me."_

_He leads her out of their safe house, and when they are a good distance away, he wraps an arm around her and Side-Along Apparates her to some place she's never been before. It is an enclosed, darkened alley, and the walls are made of blackened stone._

_Taking hold of her wrist in an iron grip, he moves with purpose, as if he has been here before and knows exactly where he intends to go. Helplessly, she continues to obey his command and hurries after his longer-legged stride. They turn left twice, and then right before he leads them to a rickety, wooden door with brown peeling paint and a rusty knocker. With a closed fist, he pounds on the door, and after a few seconds, it opens._

_"She here to get scraped?" the hag who answers the door asks, looking Rose up and down with eyes so black and beady that they seem more insectoid than human._

_Her father nods. "Immediately."_

_The hag directs them inside and shuts the door behind them, locking it with standard magical charms. They are led down a long, narrow hall that is dimly lit and down a flight of stairs into a sub-basement level. Down here, there are several shut doors lining either side of the corridor. The hag picks the third on her right, and indicates they should go in before her._

_On automatic, Rose follows her father's lead._

_"Lay her on the table."_

_Her father turns and looks down at her from his greater height. "Lie on the table and do as she instructs," he commands her. Rose has no choice but to obey._

_It is difficult to scoot her bulky body up onto the flat table, but she manages it alone. As she reclines against the cool wood, she becomes aware of the oil lamp hanging above her head. It is lit by non-magical means and flickers as it burns. The light is oddly calming, entrancing even._

_The hag hobbles up to her and her father steps back into the room's shadows, crossing his arms and waiting. The woman's gnarled hands begin touching her all over, and the sensation is nauseating to the part of Rose's mind that realizes how wrong all of this is, and how uncomfortable she feels having those cold fingers caressing her nipples and belly over her clothing._

_"Six months along," the hag states, resting her hand over Rose's protruding abdomen. "Dangerous."_

_"Do it anyway," her father commands from the darkness. "There will be no Malfoy half-breed spawn in this world. Not in my lifetime."_

_The hag cackles and turns with glee as the name of Rose's lover is revealed. "Which one? The elder, his son?" She gives Rose a sly, side-long glance and smiles with understanding. "No, the youngest. I've heard he's a handsome devil, that one." She gives Rose's father a sharp, narrow-eyed stare. "Five-hundred, and not a Sickle less. There is risk having any dealings where that family is concerned, and if I'm to take it, I'll be well-paid. In advance."_

_She holds out a bony, arthritic hand._

_The jangle of a coin purse being thrown and caught is loud in the quiet room. Rose watches as the purse - where had her father gotten such money, anyway? - disappears into one of the hag's skirt pockets in a hasty move, as if the old woman is worried that the money will be snatched back. "Wait here. I'll be back in a while," she says, and hobbles out of the room._

_It is silent between Rose and her father after that. She can't speak as he doesn't give her permission to. He doesn't move either, remaining as still as a statue, resolved in his decision... and in condemning her baby to its death, for there is only one conclusion when it comes to "scraping" and a pregnant woman._

_She is going to have an abortion forced on her. She is going to lose her sweet, little boy._

_She wants to scream and rail, to hop up from the table and run out the door, but she has absolutely no control of her body. The Unforgivable's compulsion upon her is too strong. She suspects her father's continued silence is the reason; he is putting all of his concentration into holding her under his mental sway._

_The hag returns much later - an hour, perhaps - holding a vial of smoking, bubbling, black liquid. "Sit up and drink this," she commands, and Rose has no choice but to struggle into a sitting position, reach out, and take the phial. As she brings the vile concoction to her lips, she makes one last valiant effort and mentally fights back, her hand shaking as she tries to throw off the Imperius' hold._

_From the corner of the room, she hears her father's breathing increase as he struggles to force her to his bidding. "Drink it, Rose," he grits out._

_Tears streaming down her cheeks, she is forced to bring the vial to her lips and tosses it back. It tastes awful going down, and she tries to vomit it back up, but her throat won't regurgitate._

_"Lie back on the table," the hag bids, her voice unsympathetic and cold. She takes the vial away as Rose lays back, staring up at the lantern above her head again. "Knees up," the old woman instructs._

_Rose does as required, her will to fight crushed under the weight of her despair. It is too late, anyway. Already, the potion is filling her belly. He baby will die, and she cannot stop it now._

_Her long skirt is pushed to her waist, and her knickers are taken down. She is then manacled to the table - wrists and ankles both - and her knees are spread wide. A small, hard pillow is placed under her bum, raising it up. In her mouth, a leather bit is placed._

_"Bite down on this when the pain becomes too much," the hag instructs._

_It takes twenty minutes for the potion to take effect, and when it does, it is the worst pain of Rose's life. Her womb is on fire and cramps in a rolling, nauseating manner over and over again. She flushes hot, and breaks out in a sweat, screaming around the bit in her mouth as the first stabbing pains shock her system. The pain is incredible as her baby dies._

_It takes another thirty minutes for her life to be forever altered._

_Drenched from head to toe in a variety of body fluids, Rose can do nothing but sob as she watches the hag take the bloodied body of her dead little boy away. Ronald Weasley remains stoic, unaffected by his daughter's pain and tears. After casting a Scourgify upon her and releasing her restraints, he lifts Rose in his arms and takes her back to the safe house to clean her up._

_As she recovers in the quiet of her room afterwards, too physically weak to rouse from her bed for a week, Rose seethes with anger. Yes, she eats the food her father prepares for her so she can regain her strength, but she also uses that recuperation time to plan her father's murder, too._

_It turns out she never gets the chance to act upon her plot for revenge. Eight days after her horrible experience, just as Rose is able to get back on her feet, her mother returns from her mission to inform Rose that her father, who had left that morning to join them, is dead. The safe house where the Order members were meeting in Manchester has been betrayed by one of their own, she explains, although Hermione Granger-Weasley will not say who the culprit is, or even why such a thing might have happened. She is told her Aunt Luna and Uncle George are both dead as well._

_With no time to mourn their losses, her mother takes her and they go on the run that very night, knowing the enemy has learned from Ronald Weasley everything that had been in his head regarding the Order's plans and their safe house locations._

_It is two days later before they can stop moving around long enough for Rose to explain to her mother what her father has done to her. Anger glitters in her mother's dark eyes as she hugs Rose, and they shed their tears together._

The memory is six months old, but every time Rose relieves it, it wounds as if it was fresh.

She has never told her mother of her suspicions, but she believes the traitor among them had been her father. His escape from Death Eater clutches only days before, his uncharacteristic cruelty upon his return, how easily the Order was taken by surprise... It adds up to only one conclusion: Ronald Weasley had been brainwashed by his captors and set free so he could spy on them for Voldemort. She believes he'd probably been compelled to act as he had by the Imperius Curse, in fact.

What a hateful spell. She wishes for the millionth time that it had never been invented.

As she cries silent tears over her losses once more, Rose slumps in her chains.

Her despair continues when Scorpius returns to her that evening smelling of sex and another woman's perfume. "Well, Nott's daughter was certainly interesting, but the bint was too easy and too soft. I'm in the mood for some hard fun, and I know just the witch to give it to me," he leers at her with an evil grin, pointing his wand at her. _"Imperio."_

As the spell takes her again, and she is forced to perform sick, sexual fantasies for her captor, Rose finally admits to a painful truth: her Scorpius is dead. In his heart's place lives only a monster. She has traded her freedom away for cold ashes.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

In many ways, this was an experimental fic for me - to see just how depraved I could take things in my writing. I admit that many times, my hands shook as I typed this story out, and there were hours and days when I had to walk away from it and go watch something happy, because it took me down a dark path. This chapter, in particular, was hard for me to write, I recall. Horrifying, actually - to be so betrayed by your own parent, to lose the child you wanted to love with all your heart, and to have the father of that baby mistreat you so terribly with such hate. *shudder*

There are still many more chapters of this fic to go. We haven't even gotten to the Draco/Rose stuff... that's coming. Hope you'll keep reading!


	5. Chapter 5

_**26 May, 2026**_

It is the middle of the night, and Scorpius is away on some assignment for his Lord. The room is dark, but Rose can feel the presence of someone else nearby. It wakes her again, and she stares blindly into the blackness, stretching out all of her senses, hoping for some pinpointing signal to latch onto.

The attack comes at her before she expects.

It begins with a tingling spell cast upon her womb. Then she is pulled from the corner where she stands by a hand grabbing and yanking her arm in a vice-like grip. She is thrown out into the room, to the floor with some measure of force. Terrified, she attempts to crawl away as quickly as possible, but the chains attached to one wrist and one ankle pull taut and she can go no further. In desperation, she claws at them, trying to free herself, but a foot stomping squarely into her spine with force collapses her arms and legs, and flattens her into the carpet. An _Incarcerous_ spell trusses her up like a goose she once saw displayed in a butcher's window in Scotland during her long years on the run. Her arms are pinned to the sway of her spine by the ropes; there is no escape.

Perhaps her attacker will kill her now, and do her the favour?

The cold feel of steel - a knife - travels the inseam of her leg, and she freezes, terrified. Being stabbed to death wasn't the kind of ending she'd expected. An _Avada_, or being _Crucio'd_ until her brain fries, yes, but not this common and brutal method. The thought of being carved up makes her shiver in true terror.

The knife pauses at her pussy, and she holds her breath. _No, please not there_, she silently begs.

It is a tense moment, and then the metal moves off, no longer touching her skin.

Her hips are lifted instead, her naked arse pulled up until she is kneeling, and she closes her eyes in despair, knowing what's coming next.

A soft male hand strokes over the globes of her buttocks, and his fingers tuck between the folds of her pussy, caressing and attempting to get her wet. They plunge into her over and over, stretching her, scissoring her wider, forcing the inner wetness out to slick her up. When they withdraw, they are replaced with a brutal, unrepentant cock that slams into her, forcing her forward several inches.

The stranger is as hard as steel as he takes her, as if the idea of raping a woman excites him, and she wonders if this isn't one of Scorpius' friends come to punish her on his say-so. Worse, it might even be his father come to sample his son's slave.

Trembling, she remembers the look in Draco Malfoy's eyes the day she was first brought in... She believes he's the type to rape a woman.

She hears his heavy breathing now, the small grunts that are torn from his throat as he pumps harder, faster, deeper. The voice is completely unrecognizable to her, especially with her own heartbeat slamming so loudly in her ears.

Before the man can come, he pulls out of her quim, lifts the head of his penis to the tiny rosette just above it, and begins tunneling into her arse with forceful strokes. He wants in, no matter that it hurts her and she's unprepared, and she's sure she's bleeding by the time he's buried to the bollocks in her and pounding away again. His groans become louder and more enthusiastic, as if this taboo act were a lust potion to his senses. His hips are pistoning with strength and speed, and it hurts. God, it _hurts!_ Rose, cries, praying for it to be over soon.

The grip upon her hips tightens, and he moves to an erratic rhythm now. He is growling like an animal as he finally stills and releases. She feels his liquid heat fill her rear in pulsing jets.

When he pulls out seconds later, she can feel the come that oozes from her being swept away from her vaginal opening by a cloth. Clearly, her rapist doesn't want any of his seed anywhere near her cunt.

A hard hand comes down over her bum then, spanking with stinging intent, and the wizard releases his hold on her hips. She collapses into the carpet, as he stands and rustles his clothing back into place. His knife cuts the ropes that hold her still, and she feels a silent healing charm and a _Scourgify_ upon her taking care of the evidence of his assault.

He shoves her onto her side with the bottom of his shoe, and then walks away. She hears the door creak open, and then quietly shut behind him.

Wearily, she forces her maltreated body onto its knees, and feels around for the ropes, hoping that she might be able to use them to win her freedom. They are gone, however. Her attacker was thorough in leaving no evidence behind.

As she crawls back into her corner, crying, she wonders who could have done this to her. The only conclusion she can come to is that it must be someone Scorpius put up to it. Just another game to raise her terror levels and leave her feeling helpless and worthless. Either that or it really was his father sneaking in for a taste of the forbidden, and then cleaning up the mess so his son wouldn't find out that he'd sampled the wares. Actually, that seems much more likely, as she knows from listening to Scorpius' stories when they'd been closer that his whole family is truly twisted.

God, what if it had been Draco Malfoy who'd just fucked her? That would mean two Malfoy men had had her.

The thought makes her positively sick.

Curling up into herself, she feels a change come over her. The very last piece of love that has lingered in the corner of her heart has finally died in her breast. In its place, a new resolve to get out of this horrible situation overtakes her. Plans begin to form in her head, and she considers them all with equal measure.

**X~~~~~X**

_**4 June, 2026**_

This last week has been different. Rose has been given a bra and a pair of knickers to wear. She is no longer chained to the wall, and is given free access to Scorpius' chambers. She hasn't been whipped or tortured either, and she has been well-fed. She is still _Silenced_, and has been commanded through the Imperius Curse not to attempt to kill herself, to escape the Manor, to cause her captor any harm, or to attempt wandless or verbal-less spells. These things together assure that she cannot leave the boundaries he has established. They also guarantee that she cannot fight him when he rapes her - which he still does on a daily basis, always turning her to face the wall or into the mattress so he can never see her eyes.

Rose is no dummy. She knows the reason for the negation of the beatings and the slightly better treatment is because her former lover has offset his anger, and now he wants her strong enough to begin bearing his young. His less aggressive touch in no way signifies that he is over any of it, however. The fertility potion he mixes into her morning juice every day, and his heavy pounding hips as he takes her every night, reminds her of this fact and of what her real purpose is within his grand plans.

Still, she is thankful not to have to endure so much brutality. It has been even more of a relief the last two days in particular, as Scorpius has been gone on a mission, and in that time, she has been taken care of by his house-elf servant. She has used those hours alone to consider how to break the Silencing Charm set upon her, deciding that if she can get her hands on a wand or other magical device that can nullify the spell she can remove Scorpius' magical compulsion. Technically, it is the only way out of this situation, as her captor's compulsion did not say she couldn't seek such things, only that she couldn't use wandless or verbal-less spells.

For the last day and a half, Rose has sneaked out of the room she has been in since her capture, and checked all of the neighbouring rooms, hoping to stumble across some stash of magical trophies from Scorpius' kills. Thus far, she has been unsuccessful, and her forays are always limited by time, because the elf arrives with her meals precisely at eight in the morning, half past twelve in the afternoon, and six in the evening in Malfoy's private chambers. She knows if she is not in that room by those times, his servant will rat her out and she will lose this chance.

Tonight, she waits for the elf to leave with her dirty dinner dishes, and then tiptoes out of her prison, heading down the long corridor before her to its end. This is the furthest she's travelled away from her captivity in weeks, and she swallows down her fear, determined to find something tonight to help her lift the spells upon her.

Heading off to the right down another hallway, she crouches at the first door she comes to and peeks under the gap to see what she can see. It appears to be some sort of closet. Opening the door, she double checks and discovers her assumption is right; the shelves inside are lined with linens. She hurries to the next door further down the hall.

This is the first time she has seen the inside of the Manor beyond Scorpius' wing. The place is awe-inspiring, with gorgeous tapestries lining the walls, a thick carpet runner under her feet over glossy, hardwood flooring, and plush draperies covering cathedral windows that are made of coloured glass. She's never seen such grandeur in all her life.

In truth, Rose has never stayed in one place long enough to know what a home is supposed to look like, but she's sure that Malfoy Manor is one of those fairytale castles that Aunt Luna used to tell her about before bedtime when she'd been a young girl.

The next door she comes to looks to be a reading room or smaller study. There are books lining tall shelves and a desk with a leather chair behind it situated in the middle of the otherwise empty space. Perhaps this is Scorpius' private study? If so, perhaps he keeps the wands of those he's killed here.

Entering, she quietly closes the door behind her and opens the curtains to allow in the moonlight so she can see to conduct a search.

She is on the third drawer down at the desk when the door opens. A man's silhouette is framed against the backdrop of the outside corridor's dim candlelight. Rose freezes, unsure if he can see her from his vantage point, but knowing any second now that he will once he calls for light from his wand. She ducks down behind the desk and holds her breath, trying to silence her pounding heart so she can hear.

The door shuts.

"You look just like her, you know."

To her immediate right, a _Lumos_ is soundlessly called up, and there is a brilliant white flare that causes Rose to move on instinct to shield her eyes from damage. She falls back onto her arse, hands over her face, and squeezes her lids shut against the unexpected brightness.

"Except for the hair. That's all Weasley."

Blinking as her irises adjust, she glances up to see Draco Malfoy staring down at her with a grey, enigmatic gaze. He is silent for a moment in contemplation as he takes in her features, but then he waves his wand at her and she feels her body levitated off the floor.

"I suppose you don't need to be told that struggling will get you nowhere," he snarks, and turns towards the door.

With a gesture from his wand hand, she is floating behind the Intendant in the next moment, helpless once more in the face of greater magical strength. He is very cautious before stepping out into the hallway, checking both ways several times and casting a softly-spoken _"Homenum Revelio"_ spell down the entire length of the corridor, just in case. When it seems the coast is clear, he heads with a quick, nearly silent stride towards a connected wing of the Manor, tugging her floating form along behind him. As they pass the portraits lining the hall, none of them seem to see her, and she knows she's been _Disillusioned _without even realizing it, too.

They enter a room down at the very end of the hallway. It is a bedroom with living quarters, and is grander than Scorpius' own suite. The Intendant's chosen colour pallet in here is different from his son's muted browns and drab greens. Blues in every shade tastefully decorate the plush furniture, window coverings, rugs, and bed linen. The furniture is stationed for comfort, the bed has far too many pillows on it, and the rug before the fire looks a bit worn down, as if a pair of feet often paces its length.

Behind her, the door is locked with powerful spells and wards.

She is finally released from her puppet captivity and dropped onto the bed with a _Finite Incantatum_ a few seconds later. That one mistake is the chance she has been secretly waiting for, as she knows that spell has just negated every other upon her - including the _Silencio_ that had magically constrained her ability to cast enchantments.

She has not touched a wand or performed magic in almost two months, but the well-spring of energy within her is deep and runs true. She reaches for it, concentrating... concentrating...

_"Silencio."_

No.

NO!

She has been cheated of her freedom once more!

With a silent growl, she seizes what energy reserves she has left and launches at her new captor, intent upon either ripping his wand from his hand or forcing him to cast an _Avada_ at her. She is not fast enough though, and the distance between them is too great for her to close before a Knockback Jinx does the trick of shoving her with enough strength to lift her and slam her down on the mattress. The breath is temporarily stolen from her by the force of the spell, and she understands in that moment that Draco Malfoy is at least twice as powerful as his son. She can do little more than writhe as the crushing pain in her chest slowly tapers off until it is merely a bruising pressure.

"I would hate to have to chain you like an animal, too," the man warns, his voice never raising or providing the least bit of inflection of feeling.

Through wavering tears she scowls up at the man who could pass for Scorpius' older brother rather than his father, the Malfoy genes giving Draco that unnatural, youthful beauty that only the ancient pure-blood families seem to favour.

"You will behave or I'll be forced to make you," he threatens in that same casual intonation, "and I don't think you would care for such a lesson, especially after the abuse you've already taken at my son's hands."

She flinches at the memories of what Scorpius has done to her, and bares her teeth in silent defiance.

He calls for his personal house-elf to attend him, and makes it clear to them both that every meal Rose skips, the female elf will receive punishment. He then vows the little creature to silence where Rose's whereabouts are concerned, and commands her to bring towels and a change of clothes for her to wear.

"You will remain here in my rooms, quiet as a dormouse. No one is to know you're here," he informs her in a crisp, brook-no-argument voice. "The room is warded so that only I and those I invite may pass. If you attempt to escape, I will hurt the servant, and then I will hurt you. You will bathe well, give those clothes" -his eyes roam down her scantily-clad body with a quick sweep- "to the elf to launder, and sleep in the bed in one of the shifts the elf brings here for you. Do you understand?"

Seeing no alternative at the moment, she agrees to the man's terms with a nod of her head.

Scorpius' father turns on his heel and leaves her to her privacy, walking through the wards he's erected with no effort aside from a flick of his wrist.

The elf arrives a few minutes later with a pile of clothing - everything from night wear to day wear, all of it traditional witch's garb - and a set of matching, fluffy towels. She explains the dresses once belonged to "Mistress Astoria". Rose gets the impression from what the little servant says that this witch was once the Intendant's wife, and that she died years ago.

As she strips off her bra and knickers and sinks into the sizable tub of steaming water that the elf prepares for her, Rose considers her situation. What is Draco Malfoy doing taking her from his son? He should return her straight away to Scorpius' rooms and report her disloyalty. In bringing her here and treating her with some semblance of decency, is he trying to help her, or is she nothing more than a power struggle between the older man and his child over a prize? The Intendant had mentioned her mother, specifically noting the strong resemblance between her and her mum. Did that mean something?

Such questions only bring others to her tired mind, causing it to whirl and whirl with scenarios. Had her mother and Draco Malfoy shared some sort of secret past? That might explain why her mum had turned away the use of his name whenever the man came up in conversation, referring to him as only 'the Intendant' or 'Malfoy'.

There is some vital piece to the puzzle that she is missing, but the longer she soaks in the warm bath water, the fuzzier her brain becomes. She is exhausted, both mentally and physically, and her body is finally realizing it.

The elf has to help her scrub down her limbs and torso, then wash and dry her hair because she is so very sleepy that such simple tasks seem almost Herculean in their effort. Then, the elf dresses her in a Victorian-styled nightgown that falls to her feet and tapers off at her wrists. It is clean, smells of lavender, and is the most comfortable thing she's felt against her skin in years.

Helped into the bed and tucked under the covers, Rose lays her weary head down and closes her eyes. She allows sleep to replenish all that she has lost over the last several weeks. Her last thought before the darkness swallows her up is a prayer of gratitude that, at least for the time being, she is free of Scorpius' hatred.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**The story shifts to Draco now... what many of you have been waiting for. What do you think? Have some ideas of where this will go? Please review & let me know!**

.

**Preview of Chapter 6:**

_"Don't make me warn you again of the penalty for defying me... Relax."_

_._

_I hate him. He's a monster. This whole family is evil!_

_._

_Perhaps she is just overreacting. It could simply be a case of not agreeing with the food she's consumed since her change of ownership. Her stomach may finally be rebelling against all of the rich gravies and meat in her diet. Or, this could just be a simple stomach virus... or poison._


	6. Chapter 6

_**6 June, 2026**_

The Intendant does not seek her out again for two days. When he does return to the bedroom where he holds her captive, it is not for any purpose she has been expecting. He does not bring Scorpius to collect her. He does not sexually molest her. He does not say a word to her, in fact. He merely sits in a chair across the room from her, crystal glass of Firewhisky in hand, and scowls at her in silence.

Rose ignores his black stare, turning the pages of the book she has found in the side table, occupying her mind with plans for escape while pretending to read. There is not much else for her to do in her captivity, in general, aside from plot her freedom. She has already been over every square inch of the room she is now imprisoned within, and found nothing of consequence to help her escape, and so she considers other plans - more aggressive plans.

Because the Imperius Curse has been lifted from her, she can now openly consider not only options for fleeing the Manor proper, but also thoughts of harming her jailers without feeling debilitating pain in her frontal lobe. So, she sits and makes notes in her mind's eye regarding the amount of alcohol her captor consumes, and patiently waits, hoping Draco Malfoy will drink enough so she can take his wand from him with little resistance.

"I heard your father was killed."

Rose's head snaps back, as if she has just been slapped, and she shoots an angry glare at her tormentor. Unfazed, he takes a long sip of his drink, his gaze locked on hers over the rim of his glass. There is expectation lit within the depths of his cold, steely eyes; almost an eager anticipation of her insolence.

She sneers at him with disgust and spits in his direction, over the edge of the bed.

He is on his feet in an instant. His glass is scooted carelessly across the wooden surface of a side table, forgotten. In a dozen long-legged strides, he is standing directly in the spot her spittle landed. Excitement slashes across his features and blooms in his cheeks, staining that cold, alabaster skin with heat and life.

"I heard your mother cried over him."

Without thinking of the consequences, driven by irrational anger to defend her parents, even the father whom she had never shed a tear over when she'd been told he'd been murdered, she throws the book in her hands at Draco Malfoy's head with some serious intent to wound. He blocks it with an arm that moves faster than she'd expected.

The book tumbles to the floor at the same moment she lunges towards the opposite end of the bed, trying to put as much room between her and her mad captor. He moves and cuts her off, grabbing her by an arm and pulling her until her back collides with his chest. Arms wrap around her, drag her to the floor, and push her face into the carpet. She turns her head, trying to breathe through his greater weight upon her. His hot, panting breath blasts against her cheek as he pins her in place. She fights, but his angle gives him a greater edge, and it is not long before her struggles cease and all she can do is lie limply under him and pray he doesn't rape her, too.

He doesn't speak for long seconds, but his frustration is palpable; she can almost taste it on her tongue.

Pressing his nose into her, he hisses against her face. "Your mother... where is she?"

Rose wouldn't have told him even if she'd had her voice. She purses her lips together and huffs a silent, defiant laugh into the carpet.

Seeming to remember that she'd been magically muzzled, Draco snarls. "I'll find her eventually. It's only a matter of time."

With that, he is off her and striding from the room. The door slams shut behind him.

Rose chokes back tears at having been made to feel once more so powerless and vulnerable. It takes several minutes for her to firm up her courage enough to pull her body up off the floor, but she manages it. She heads into the bathroom to wash the feel of helplessness away.

**X~~~~~X**

_**10 June, 2026**_

It is three days later when the Intendant returns. Rose is brought wide awake by him slipping under the covers and joining her in the bed. The scent of alcohol is very strong and wafts through the air between them. There is a tense, fearful moment when she is unsure what will happen next.

His arm around her middle causes her to go stiff, and then she is struggling to be free.

"Don't, Granger," he slurs. "Always fightin' me. Stop."

His words give her pause, and she realizes he isn't intending on assaulting her. _He's snuggling up to her! _His overly heated body moulds to hers and his face presses into her riot of auburn curls. He jostles some, and throws a heavy leg over her. Rose is still, waiting, listening, and trying to see if she can make sense of this bizarre moment.

Draco Malfoy gives a sigh of relief, and settles in for sleep. "'Mione," he whispers with reverence before he is claimed by the Sandman.

Rose spends an hour waiting for him to fall into deep sleep before she squirms out from the sauced wizard's embrace. She immediately begins patting him down, looking for his wand.

Unfortunately, Draco's house-elf is in the room with them, keeping watch on her Master while he's in such an intoxicated state, and when she catches Rose going for the wand, she is _Immobilized_ with a snap of the little creature's fingers. The elf spends the next several minutes chastising Rose for trying to escape after "Master Draco" warned her not to do so, and arranges her back in bed.

Lying once more in Scorpius' father's embrace, unable to move, Rose spends the rest of the night suffering Draco's sexual touches as he unconsciously curls around her in his sleep. He cups her breast as if it were a natural, well-practiced position that he assumes whenever in bed with his wife, and wedges a knee between her legs, pressing his thigh up against her covered mound. She falls into bouts of sleep lasting anywhere from minutes to hours, unable to keep herself awake despite attempts to count sheep or reciting the potions ingredients her mum used to tell her about when she'd been younger.

In the morning, when she awakes, Draco is gone from the bed, and she realizes, the Immobilizing Charm has been removed from her person. Unfortunately, the Silencing Charm is still in place.

**X~~~~~X**

_**11 June, 2026**_

The next night, the Intendant once more slips under the covers in the darkness. This time, when he presses against her, she can only smell a light wash of liquor on his breath, but she can also feel that he's naked.

Automatically, she tries to move away, but his arms gather around her and one of his leg wraps around hers, pinning her. "Don't make me warn you again of the penalty for defying me," he murmurs in her ear, and she recalls his threat to hurt the elf for any act of disobedience on her part. "Relax."

Hot tears flood her eyes as she is given no choice but to submit.

This cements it for her: this man had to have been the one who'd raped her in Scorpius' darkened bedroom that one night. He'd been rough and cruel then, fast to find release, but that was probably because he'd been worried his son would return at any minute and he'd needed to have his taste before then.

_Foul, sick bastard!_

Draco's tight hold loosens as he feels her muscles let go with acquiescence. His hand moves to push her shift up her thigh and over her hip, baring her lower body. She is not wearing any lingerie underneath tonight, having given it to the house-elf to wash just that afternoon, and so she feels his tight, hard erection as it meets the naked sway of her hind. He groans into her throat, and begins pressing wet, suckling kisses over her pulse, even as he moves his leg off of hers, shoving it between them instead, parting her thighs.

His fingers find the curls shrouding her femininity and caress them with a soft touch. They dip lower, running up the seam of her nether lips, parting them... finding her dry as a bone and completely unresponsive. Her lack of sexual arousal does not deter him, unfortunately. He merely brings his fingers up over the tiny, fleshy nub and begins to rub erotic, tender circles over it.

With tears spilling from her eyes, Draco coaxes her body to respond. She tries very hard not to, biting the inside of a cheek to keep pain at the forefront of her mind, and not to derive pleasure from what he's doing to her. When he pierces her with a finger, and then two, she silently berates her traitorous body for being a bit wet despite her best efforts.

_I hate him. He's a monster. This whole family is evil!_

She repeats this mantra over and over as he grips his cock and guides it into her. With gentle thrusts, he takes her, moaning at the feel of being inside her. "So tight," he whispers, gripping her hip and surging to the hilt within her.

He rolls them so her belly is pressed into the mattress and he is behind her. Rose turns her head so she won't suffocate in the pillow, and lies as flat as possible, refusing to make this easy for him. Unfortunately, her new tormentor seems to find this position arousing nonetheless.

"Spread your legs wider for me," he bids in a tender voice, speaking to her as if he were her lover, not her rapist.

Knowing the repercussions if she doesn't, she acts as he wants her to.

His thrusts are full, measured, and thorough. He moves within her to a rhythm that is not violent this time, but meant to give her enjoyment. She refuses to accept his talented 'gift', though, no matter how good he is at this game.

"Stubborn, just like her," he grunts, as he leans forward and places kisses across her lightly-freckled shoulders.

Does he mean her mother? Has he raped her mum, too? Is that why the woman winces whenever this man's name is spoken and hisses at the speaker never to mention _"that family"_ again?

His pace speeds up and his breathing against the nape of her neck is hot, nearing frantic. It takes only a few more pistoning drives into her and he is coming. He presses his face into her hair and groans, loud and with great satisfaction, holding still within her as he releases his seed.

Showing some small consideration, he does not collapse his full weight upon her, but pulls out and rolls off to lie at her side. Rose refuses to look at him as he recovers in the aftermath. She merely closes her legs and wills her tears away, groping for anger to save her from her despair.

To her surprise, the Intendant rearranges the bed sheets to lie over her shoulders, and then slips out of bed to go into the bathroom. She hears the water running, and she knows he is washing the scent of their sex off of his skin, possibly so he can go lie in his empty marriage bed later without guilt for betraying his dead wife. It was a good bet he'd done the same that night he'd invaded his son's bedroom and forced himself upon her, too. Bloody hypocrite!

She closes her eyes, hoping for sleep to make all of the hurt go away, but the uncomfortable sensation of wet and sticky between her thighs keeps her from finding true rest.

**X~~~~~X**

_**18 June, 2026**_

Draco comes to her prison-slash-room every night now. He fucks her in a variety of positions, sometimes with urgency and other times with slow deliberation, commanding her to move as he wants. Rose has no choice but to obey. For a man in his forties, he has proven to have quite the stamina. She believes he must be taking a lust potion of some sort, which makes her wonder why he's so desperate for so much sex.

The answer comes to her a week after their first time together when she tastes fertility potion in her morning tea: Draco Malfoy is intentionally trying to get her pregnant with his child. The question is, why?

Is this, again, some sort of competition with his son? Or is it some way of provoking Scorpius, maybe even attempting to put him in his place? Are Death Eater politics the reason she is continually used, or does this have nothing to do with what is going on in this house and everything to do with her mother?

Another thought intrudes: if he'd wanted her pregnant, why had he wiped his seed off of her after that first night, when he'd raped her in Scorpius' bedroom? Why pull out of her vagina and rape her anally? He could have just come inside her pussy and been done with it, and Scorpius would have assumed the child his, since he and his father look so much alike.

None of it makes logical sense, but then this entire family is mad - from the Black side to the Malfoys, themselves - so logic may have nothing to do with any of it.

If only the Intendant was a man who engaged in pillow talk, then she could get her answers!

But he isn't. At least not yet.

She hatches a plan to begin making him believe she is thankful for his rescue from his son by becoming more willingly obliging in bed. Perhaps she can get him to start softening towards her enough so that she can get some answers... and perhaps even grab his wand when he least expects.

**X~~~~~X**

_**18 July, 2026**_

A month passes and Draco has not yet dropped his guard around her. His wand remains out of reach, as he always remembers before stripping down and coming to her to drop it into an inner pocket of his robe, using magic to seal it away from any but him. It is a frustrating game she plays, waiting for him to slip up and forget just one time, but he never does and she is beginning to lose hope as a result.

Another problem now haunts her thoughts, too: nightly, she gives her body to this man she loathes, attempting to keep her heart sheltered, but it is becoming increasingly difficult a task to maintain. There is a part of her that remembers how it was to exist under Scorpius' thumb, and that part is relieved to have been rescued from that hell and feels some gratitude towards her deliverer. That Draco treats her exceptionally well for a prisoner - generously feeding her, providing her with facilities to keep clean, and a comfortable bed - causes her to feel even more indebted to him. He brings her books on occasion, because he knows she needs to keep her mind occupied, and he occasionally gifts her with new clothing, too, all of it feminine and pretty. She has never owned such gorgeous things in her life, having lived mostly on the run with her parents and the Order members.

Each time Draco does something nice for her, or treats her with gentleness, a part of her wants to cry, because she knows she is still nothing more than a slave to him. She is not his equal, and never will be according to his Master. That is further brought home to her by the fact that he has never released the Silencing Charm on her throat.

Still, it is difficult to reconcile the feelings of hatred with the gratitude, and Rose feels guilty for even having such thoughts, especially for the enemy.

**X~~~~~X**

_**25 July, 2026**_

One morning a week later, Rose wakes to a hot flash and a roiling bout of nausea. The room spins, and it takes some serious effort to make it to the bathroom sink where she heaves up the contents of her stomach.

Draco's house-elf, who is always around to watch over her, is there in an instant with a cold, damp cloth and a cup of water to help her swish out her mouth. After the sickness abates, the elf helps Rose back to bed, tucking her in under the blankets as her mum had once done for her when she'd caught a cold as a child.

She drifts in and out of sleep for a few more hours, her dreams filled with images of screaming infants.

**X~~~~~X**

_**26 July, 2026**_

The next day, Rose experiences more bouts of nausea, first in the morning, then in the afternoon after smelling the lunch that the elf brings her. The scent of pea soup makes her hurl her breakfast all over the toilet seat.

As the elf kindly cleans up the mess, Rose drags her feet over to the bed and sits down heavily, the gnawing dread centred in her belly coinciding with the screaming instincts in her head. Two days in a row, she has heaved-up the contents of her belly. She has had no menses this month. Her tea is daily spiked with a fertility potion. She has no other obvious symptoms to indicate this might be the flu.

She's pregnant.

The idea is horrifying, and her mind seeks out other alternatives in its denial. Perhaps she is just overreacting. It could simply be a case of not agreeing with the food she's consumed since her change of ownership. Her stomach may finally be rebelling against all of the rich gravies and meat in her diet. Or, this could just be a simple stomach virus... or poison.

Her head jerks up in astonishment at that last thought, and her eyes shoot to the bathroom, where the elf is just emerging. Oh, God. Is she being poisoned in her food and drink? She hasn't tasted anything odd aside from the fertility potion, but then some poisons might be odourless or their taste may be easily covered up. But no, that makes no sense. Why try to kill her in such a messy fashion when an _Avada_ will do the job in a much cleaner, simpler manner? So, not poison, most likely.

Her mind reels at the possibilities. Is Draco punishing her for some slight? Or maybe, this isn't about her, but about showing his son his place... or her mother hers.

There are too many unknown variables, but she determines not to eat for the next day to see if that might settle her tummy. And if she _is _being poisoned, then she'll know by the fact that she is no longer vomiting up her guts.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**The plot thickens... what is Draco up to? What is his ultimate aim? What has Scorpius been doing all this time Rose has been missing? We're close to the end now, folks!**

**Please review!**

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**Preview of Chapter 7:**

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_"You're not her," he tells her, his silver grey eyes glimmering with frustration. "You don't smell like her. You don't taste like I remember her tasting. You don't even feel like her when I'm inside you. I know you're not your mother." His wand slightly trembles before her face. "But... I can't help but wish you were."_

_._

_"Stay close to me," he warns her as he grabs her wrist and tugs her towards the door. "He's so angry that he just may murder you now. I'll do what I can to protect you."_

_._

_The wizard steps back from Rose, but retains a hold on her wrist. "Come closer, Granger. Give me your hand."_


	7. Chapter 7

_**1 August, 2026**_

Six days later, after a rough session of sex, rather than recovering and hopping off to the shower as usual, the Intendant stares at the too-white ceiling far above their heads for a long time in silence. Rose remains still next to him and waits, nervous as to this new behaviour.

Starving herself for several days didn't stop her illness, and when no flu-like symptoms appeared over the intervening days to corroborate disease as the likely candidate... well, she knows what that means. The question remains: who is the father of the child she now carries? Is it her ex-lover or Draco? That thought has driven her fair mad all day.

She's sure the house-elf has told her Master by now about the bouts of morning sickness, and she believes this is the reason for her captor's current brooding. How will he react? Will he kill her now, or worse, give her back to Scorpius?

He gets up, crosses the room, unconcerned for his nudity, and reaches into the inner pocket of his robe where he keeps his wand. He withdraws it and turns it over in his hand, contemplating his inner demons.

This is it, then. He is summoning the nerve to kill her. Her heart slows, her mind accepts, and her courage flares.

Rose gets to her feet beside the bed, refusing to face her death like a coward. She lifts her chin as he approaches, wand aimed at her. He does not immediately strike, however. There is a profound pause instead as they stare at one another - she with forced bravado, he with calculation.

"You're not her," he tells her, his silver grey eyes glimmering with frustration. "You don't smell like her. You don't taste like I remember her tasting. You don't even feel like her when I'm inside you. I know you're not your mother." His wand slightly trembles before her face. "But... I can't help but wish you were."

Rose's fire fades at the sound of regret in his words.

"I tried to pretend you were, but there's no replacing her," he murmurs. "Not ever."

His wand arm drops.

Shocked, Rose can only stand stock-still, her mind not comprehending his motivation.

Before she can think to take advantage of his loss in concentration, he has turned and put his wand back into the inner pocket of his robes, and is dressing. "You're to eat everything the elf brings you from now," he instructs her, his voice returning to the cold, commanding tone it always wears before and after their sex sessions. As he slips his trousers up over his naked hips, and zips up, he looks at her. "I won't have my child denied its life by your stubbornness."

_His_ child? How can he be sure it's his?

As if reading her thoughts, he gives her a flat, grim smile. "The same day you were brought here to the Manor, my son was rendered impotent by a spell I doubt he even felt was cast upon him. It happened at the same moment that you were being _Silenced._" He chuckles, and it is a dark, mocking sound."Pardon my amusement, but the irony of that should not be lost upon you when I tell you the spell was done verbal-less and wandless - the two things my son was so worried _you_ capable of, Rose. In the moment he took away your ability to leave him, he lost the ability to have you in the way he wanted." Staring off into the distance, he smirks, and it is a bitter, biting thing. "'There will be no Malfoy half-breed spawn in the world.' That's what he said. Bet he didn't expect this, though. Not from me. The bastard."

His words are like angry bees in her ears. Anger fires through her veins. If only she had a voice, she would be screaming at him for putting her in this position. She didn't want to be pregnant again, especially not by a Malfoy! Curling her hands into fists, she glares at him, angry tears this time wavering in her eyes. He watches her even as he slips the rest of his clothing back into place, but there is no counter to the spitting hatred in her expression. He remains as icy as ever, as emotionless as a serpent.

"Despise me all you want," he tells her, "but you will not destroy the life within you. Not like you did with my son's child. My elf will ensure it. Of that, you can be certain."

With that, he turns and leaves.

The table lamp she throws at him in a fit of rage hits the closed door and shatters, but he is gone by then. It is too late to do him any damage.

**X~~~~~X**

_**15 August, 2026**_

Two weeks later, Scorpius finds out where she's been taken and all hell breaks loose.

Rose knows this only because Draco rushes into her room very early one morning, when it is still dark outside, and in his hands he has a travelling cloak for her. He commands her get up and get dressed as quickly as possible, requiring his elf to aid in her getting ready. He then instructs his servant to hold Scorpius off for as long as she can give them, but not to kill him. Of course, this means the little creature will die, for Rose knows her ex-lover is unforgiving, and has no regard for the welfare of house-elves.

"Stay close to me," he warns her as he grabs her wrist and tugs her towards the door. "He's so angry that he just may murder you now. I'll do what I can to protect you."

She wants to ask where he is taking her as he drags her from his room to one across the hall, but the Silencing Charm still prevents her from making any verbal noises. The Muffling Charm he casts on their feet keeps their footsteps from being heard as well.

Hidden behind a bookshelf in this side room is a staircase leading down. She and Draco hurry down it as the shelf slides back into place behind them. Down they go for at least two stories until they come to a door. Tapping out a pattern on the stones to the left of the wall opens the portal. They scurry out and into the side yard, closest to the tree line, running all out through the open space between to reach the safety of cover.

Rose's hearts pounds in fear and in excitement. Fear because of Scorpius possibly tracking them, excitement because she is finally free of that blasted Manor and after months, can feel the wind once more upon her face.

The Intendant guides them with wand at the ready and with a sure foot through the woods, despite the fact that only the moon illuminates their path, as he risks no spell for light. Through the filter of the trees, his platinum hair is like a beacon, and she worries it will give them away if they are being followed. She has heard nothing behind them, but that means little when dealing with Death Eaters, she knows.

They travel this way for a good twenty minutes before reaching the edge of the trees and coming to a meadow. Draco's steps slow, then stop. Rose glances around his dark, towering form to see what has waylaid them. Even in the moonlight, she would know her mother's form anywhere. The woman's soft voice confirms her identity.

"I came as you instructed, Malfoy. Now, where is she?"

Draco turns his body and stares down at Rose. In the dim light from above, his eyes are cast in shadow.

"The special fertility potion you took would have guaranteed a male child, so when he's ten years old, give this to my son for me," he bids her, handing her a piece of parchment that has been rolled and bespelled. "Tell him I'm sorry... for all of it."

Surprised by the tenderness in his tone, she glances up again. His face is so much softer in the dawn. In the lines that crease his eyes - the only physical evidence of his middle age - Draco Malfoy's ice cracks for the first time. There is regret and an acceptance of death in the tremulous smile he gives her.

A rustle in the grass signals her mother stepping closer. "Let her go, Draco. I'll do the trade. Just let her go, please."

The wizard steps back from Rose, but retains a hold on her wrist. "Come closer, Granger. Give me your hand."

Squaring her shoulders, her expression set with fire and determination, Hermione Granger-Weasley does as requested. Her hand shakes as she holds it out for Malfoy to take.

In a smooth move, Draco releases Rose, and tugs her mother into his arms. He drags her body into his and gives her a melting, desperate kiss filled with passionate need. Her mother does not respond, remaining passive in his embrace. As he pulls back, he smirks down at the witch he has now captured. "I've missed doing that to you," he admits in a voice laced with amusement and sexual arousal. It is a tone Rose has never heard him utter before.

Her mother is clearly flustered, but it doesn't prevent her anger. She steps back and slaps Draco hard across the face. "You gave up the right to have me like this when you made your choice that day in the Astronomy Tower. You made your bed, now lie in it, Draco."

There is a story here that Rose doesn't know, but its pieces are beginning to build the picture up: her mother and this man - her captor, rapist, and the father of her baby - had once had an affair. One that, for Draco Malfoy at least, had not ended, despite the years and being on opposite ends of a war. She suspects it is the reason he saved Rose from his son's abuse and took her to his bed instead.

_"I know you're not your mother. But... I can't help but wish you were."_

"You're right, as usual," he answers her mother's accusation. His eyes soften. "You're been right about it all."

Rose's mum's face takes on a look of pain. "It's not too late, Draco. We could use your help." She holds out her hand to him. "I'll ask you one more time: will you please come with me?"

He seems torn, but his arm lifts.

The tingle of Anti-Apparition wards going up all around them suddenly rolls over Rose's senses, making her shiver.

"Yes, take her hand, father. Take the side of the Mudbloods and their bastard children. _Your_ bastard child."

All three of them whirl around. There, deeper into the shadowy woods, leaning against a tree with casual indifference stands Scorpius.

"Granger, take her and go," the Intendant murmurs, raising his wand arm in a defensive posture.

"Too late for that. You felt the wards," her mum firmly states, raising her wand as well. "We fight this one together."

Draco _tsks._ "Always have to play the brave fucking Gryffindor, just like Potter."

"I _am_ that brave fucking Gryffindor," her mother quips, stepping up to his side. "Or, had you forgotten?"

The Intendant chuckles, but the sound is short-lived as his entire demeanour becomes deadly serious the second Scorpius takes a step in their direction. His arm straightens and his wand points right at his son. "You're outmatched and outclassed, Scor. Let us go. No one needs to die here today."

The man Rose had once given her heart to boldly continues forward, unconcerned by the wands pointed at him. "Ah, now see, that's where you're wrong, dad."

As if his words are a special signal prepared in advance, Death Eaters and Snatchers Apparate into the glen in streams of smoky, black ink trails, surrounding them. They materialize with their wands pointed at Rose, Draco, and her mother, who step back-to-back against the threat.

Scorpius saunters into the ring of bodies, a cruel smirk painting his lips. "You know the penalty for blood-traitors, don't you father?"

Draco nods, as cool and controlled as ever, despite the odds now stacked against them. "Skinned alive. Then, decapitated." His voice is almost bland as he pronounces the sentence that awaits him if he is taken prisoner in this fight.

"Head on a pike in Hogwarts' Main Hall for all to see," his son confirms in an almost cheerful tone. "All for our great Lord's pleasure."

Rose feels something shaped like a metal key pressed into her palm. "Grab your mother's hand," the wizard at her side instructs in a voice soft enough that only she can hear. Without a pause, she does as he requests.

"You would really do that to me?" he asks his son, his wand arm still unerringly pointed at the younger wizard.

"In a heartbeat," Scorpius confirms, his eyes flat, merciless.

The lack of pause before he responds is the final splintering of Rose's heart. There truly is nothing left of Scorpius to salvage. His humanity is gone. She stares at him, this man who she once loved with every ounce of her soul, and for the first time, she cries not for herself, but for him.

"You're making a mistake," Draco warns him. "What you think you're fighting for is a lie, son. You're being played. You have been for the last six months. You're wrong about trusting your new Master, just as you were wrong about not trusting Rose."

Scorpius snarls. "You know nothing of it!"

His father laughs with dark disdain. "Don't I? If anyone in this world knows exactly what my father is capable of, it's me. I was once where you are: believing the lies. It drove me from the person I wanted most in the world, too. I've spent twenty-five years regretting that decision, and everything that came after it. You don't want to know what that feels like. There's enough blood on your hands as it is."

There is a pause as the son considers his words.

"Did you like fucking my whore, father?"

From her peripheral vision, Rose watches the blond wizard at her side go stiff with guilt. Behind her, she hears her mother's stifled sob as she understands the unspoken answer.

"You took Rose from me, you bloody hypocrite, and you've stuffed her with your issue," Scorpius seethes. "You did it to spite me! You knew I wanted her to bear _my_ children!"

Draco is quiet in the face of his son's rage.

"Your elf's pea-sized brain had so much information inside," her ex-lover taunts. "She showed me all her lovely memories of you bending my slave over your couch and the edge of your bed. I enjoyed the show watching her sick up all over your bathroom floor. Oh, and she showed me you using her to find my little slave's mother with a note to bring her here." He tapped his wand against his thigh. "You've become sloppy, old man. You should have erased the elf's memories or killed her to keep your secrets."

In the dawning sunrise, Draco Malfoy's hair shines like spun white-gold as he shakes his head. "You don't see it, do you? I tried to save you, Scorpius," he argues. "You've been walking a dark path for months, and I wanted to save you from it. I took her away from you because I thought it would give you time to cool down. I thought you'd regret what you'd done to her once your initial anger had passed... but you didn't. I knew that night we sat up drinking and talking that it was too late to save you. Something inside of you is broken, son. There's no regret in you, no compassion, no mercy. You are the perfect Seneschal for the Dark Lord's cause - a soulless soldier who enjoys inflicting pain on others. I knew that night it was too late. So, I did what I had to. I kept her safe from you... and I gave myself a second chance."

Rose turns her head and stares at the man who has fathered her child, and realizes now why he has been so desperate for so many weeks to couple with her every day - enough to take potions to guarantee he can sustain an erection even in the face of his disinterest: he wants another son, to replace the one he knows is lost to him.

Guilt and shame once more creep up Rose's cheeks. It is not her fault what has happened to her, but she is humiliated to learn she has been nothing more than a means to an end.

Her mother's fingers squeeze hers, and she glimpses through tear-beaded lashes that her mum is signalling her to be ready. She has a plan.

Until this moment, the circle of Death Eaters and Snatchers have been strangely quiet, voyeurs to this family drama unfolding before them like some sort of freak entertainment. Now, there is a restless shifting, as if the story is taking too long for them and they want a resolution fast. "Kill 'em, already," someone calls out, his thick accent outing him as an East Londoner. "We ain't got all day." There is mumble assent from the group, with a nod here and there for good measure.

"No killing," Scorpius gleefully tells them all. "I want the women - both of them. As for my father... I think I'd like to see just how much pain he can take before his sentence as a blood-traitor commences."

Rose is terrified, as she senses now is the moment for them to act or lose the chance.

Trusting her mother, she gives her life up into the woman's hands once more, obeying her without thought when the woman hisses at her to "get down". She drops to her knees in the tall grass, maintaining a grip on both her mother's hand and the key Draco Malfoy has given her as the first spells are fired.

A Bubble _Protego_ Shield thwarts the first volley from the enemy and gives them the precious seconds they need for Draco to fire a series of Killing Curses off, while her mum simultaneously works on destroying the anti-Apparition wards around them. They begin to fall, the magic crackling through the air like static electricity.

There is a screamed curse from the circle of dark wizards, and a grunt from Draco as he is hit with a spell that gives off a purple light. "_Portus,"_ he casts, turning and firing his wand at the metal key in Rose's hand.

A queer feeling behind her navel of being hooked and pulled away takes hold of her, and Rose grips her mum's hand tighter as she is teleported away. She has never travelled by Portkey before, but she does know from her mother's teachings as a child that unlike Apparition, a Portkey jump will be completely untraceable by those they've left behind.

Where they will end up, and where they will then go from there is anyone's guess.

* * *

_**TO BE CONCLUDED...**_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

**No chapter preview so I don't give anything away, as the next chapter is the last - and the big reveal.**

**Please review this chapter!**

**.**

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